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The Virgin Cowboy Billionaire's Secret Baby

Page 17

by Lauren Gallagher


  He left the intimidating, depressing array of books and got in line. After he’d paid, a couple of employees brought the larger items out and loaded them into his truck, and Matt tied everything down.

  On his way out of Goldmount, crawling through the shitty traffic toward the interstate, his mind kept wandering back to that book rack at the baby store, and a nervous feeling coiled itself in the pit of his stomach.

  Beth really was right. Inexperienced parents needed experienced parents for support and advice, and he and Dara didn’t have a lot of options there.

  In order for his parents to help with the new baby, they had to know about the baby. Which meant showing a few cards that they would not appreciate.

  But maybe sooner was better than later. Especially now that Dara’s mother knew he was “playing Dad” to the baby, maybe it was time to visit his own mother and start feeling her out. The gossip would get to her sooner or later. Maybe now was a good time to find out just what they’d be up against once the truth came out.

  And if he went over to her place now—she never minded the kids dropping by—then he could get this over with before he lost his nerve.

  He glanced in the rearview at the boxes tied down in the truck bed. Pulling up to his folks’ house with all that would kill the subtle, tactful approach.

  So, he went home and parked the truck in the garage. Then he took the cover off his one remaining sports car—the Ferrari he just hadn’t been able to give up. It was red, and loud, and fast—and at the moment, the only vehicle he had that wasn’t filled to the gills with baby things.

  Then it was off to Mom’s, and hopefully this visit would play out better than the last several.

  He parked in the driveway beside Mom’s old sedan. Before he’d even shut off the engine, the front door opened, and his mom appeared on the porch.

  As he came up the walk, she smiled. “Well, this is a surprise. What brings you by?”

  He shrugged, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Just, uh, was in the area.”

  She stood aside. “Come on in. Can I get you something to eat?”

  “No, no, I’m fine. Thanks.” Eating probably wasn’t a good idea—his stomach wasn’t even thrilled about him being here, and he didn’t want to push his luck.

  As Mom closed the door, she said, “Do you know what I heard the other day? Your ‘friend’ is having a baby.”

  Matt swallowed. “Oh really?” Funny you should bring that up. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Where haven’t I heard it?” Mom rolled her eyes. “It’s all over church.” With a sharp, haughty laugh, she added, “That explains why she wasn’t drinking wine at dinner.”

  “Yeah, I guess that could be it.”

  “And why she’s suddenly come back to Aspen Mill.”

  Matt raised his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

  “Well, a man isn’t going to divorce a woman who’s carrying his baby. Obviously he found out she’s been getting around town, and—”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Well.” Mom sneered. “I do know that I can’t imagine what kind of man would leave the pregnant mother of his child, or what kind would stick around while she’s pregnant with someone else’s.”

  Matt chewed the inside of his cheek. There was no way he could explain to her that she was right—the asshole ex-husband wasn’t keen on raising a child who wasn’t biologically his—without also explaining a few other things. Things that were none of her business, and things she would not be impressed with.

  He watched his mother from the corner of his eye. Sooner or later, she was going to know. Putting it off wouldn’t prevent the inevitable.

  Once Dara couldn’t hide the fact that the rumors were true and she really was pregnant, word would get around Aspen Mill even faster, and those who’d thought it was just a rumor before would start speculating. Was the baby her husband’s? Had he left her because she’d gotten knocked up by some other guy? Tongues would be wagging even more than they already were, because nobody in this town had anything better to do.

  Maybe it was time to test the water.

  “Mom, I’ve got a question.”

  She faced him. “All right.”

  He folded his hands on the table. “It’s about my family situation.”

  “Oh.” She sat up a little straighter, tilting her head slightly. “Okay…”

  He hesitated. “Look, I do want kids, but I’ve had a hard time finding the right woman. And I know Beth’s been frustrated trying to find a guy. Juggling work and dating, it’s…” He shook his head.

  Mom’s lips tightened, but she didn’t say anything.

  He went on. “I’d like to have kids before I’m in my forties, but I don’t want to rush into a relationship just so we can start a family. So I’ve been considering a surrogate and—”

  “A what?” Her jaw fell open. “Are you out of your mind?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I’m kind of running out of options at this—”

  “That’s not how this works, Matthew!”

  “If you think about it, it would work for everyone involved. I’d have some kids. The mother would too. There’d be no rush for a relationship. And you’d have grandkids.”

  “That’s insane.” His mother shook her head. “Completely insane.” She flattened her palms on the table. “You do whatever you want. But personally? I’m disgusted you would even think of this. If you want children, you find a woman, you marry her and then you have them. That’s how it’s always been.”

  He wasn’t surprised by her reaction, of course. And now that he’d offered her a scenario he knew she’d reject…

  “How would you feel about a situation where a woman couldn’t have children with her husband, and asked for help?”

  The hardness of his mom’s expression answered pretty clearly. “What do you mean, help?”

  “Sperm donation.”

  Her jaw dropped, and he thought she turned a little green. “For a woman married to someone else?”

  He nodded. “With me involved with the kid’s life, just—”

  “For God’s sake.” Narrowing her eyes, she folded her arms across her chest. “You can’t find a woman suitable to be a wife and a mother to your children, and you’d even consider letting some other couple raise them for you?”

  “I’d still be involved with—”

  “No, Matthew. There’s no ‘being involved with’ someone raising your children. You’re either a parent, or you’re not.”

  “So if someone asked me to because it was their last resort, you’d want me to say no.”

  “Has someone asked you?”

  “The subject has come up, yes.”

  She set her jaw. “Who?”

  The suspicion raised the hairs on his neck. “A friend. From Chicago.”

  “Mmhmm.” She eyed him skeptically. “And have you given them an answer?”

  “Not yet. Like I said, it’s just something we’ve discussed.”

  “I see.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I would hope you want no part of that. If they can’t have children, then they need to look into adoption. But fathering someone else’s children? No. That’s a terrible thing for them to ask you to do.” She released a breath. “Honey, I want you and your siblings to be happy. And I’m just worried that you and your sister have focused so hard on your careers, you’re letting your lives go right past you.”

  “Mom, these are our lives.”

  “They are now, but what about twenty years from now? When it’s too late for Beth to have children, and it’ll be too late for all the available women your age too?” Her brow creased. “I just want you both to be happy, and I’m worried you’re setting yourselves up for some big regrets later.”

  “I know you care, Mom. I get it. But have some faith in us. Beth isn’t stupid, a
nd neither am I.”

  “Of course you aren’t.” Mom’s features hardened. “But I raised you both to put family first. And that’s why with the way things are now, your brother is going to get the farm. I—”

  “Hang on.” Matt showed his palms. “Can we not get into the will today? I don’t want to go there. Not now.”

  “Then why are—”

  “I’m only trying to think about my future and my options. I don’t want to make this about wills and property, okay?”

  Her features hardened, but then she released her breath. “All right. Well, I’ve just made some iced tea. Would you like some?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen.

  The rest of the visit was pretty uneventful. His mother regaled him with the latest gossip, which he didn’t care about, and then asked him about some improvements he and Beth were planning for the farm. At least that didn’t segue into another discussion about the will.

  When he left, he didn’t even stick around long enough to put the top down. He just got the hell out of there, leaving his parents’ house in a cloud of dust and losing himself in the roar of the Ferrari’s engine, and when the leather smell started creeping under his skin, he rolled down the window and blasted the air conditioner.

  All the way home, he breathed slowly and carefully, anticipating that throbbing behind his eyes. Sometimes it was a delayed reaction, but sometimes it happened right away. Maybe he needed to sit down with his therapist again sooner than later, especially now that he had a few new things to stress over.

  Not to mention the old stuff. The will. Mom’s meddling. He genuinely believed his mother’s heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t abide by the manipulative bullshit. And the fucked-up thing was, though he wasn’t surprised by her reactions to his hypothetical scenarios, it hurt. And it left him feeling even more like he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Dara was stressed and worried, and he didn’t want to compound that.

  But it had taken him until last year to figure out how to take care of himself.

  How the hell was he going to take care of a baby?

  “Are you sure you can carry this?”

  Dara glared playfully at him over the crib’s flat box. “Yes, Matt. It’s fine.”

  “I’m serious. Does your doctor—”

  “It’s under fifty pounds, and you’re helping. Relax.” She started up the stairs backward. “Just go slowly.”

  “I’m following you.”

  The box was awkward and not very well balanced, but between them they made it up the stairs, down the hall and into the baby’s bedroom. They carefully laid it on the floor beside the stroller, dresser and changing table they’re already brought up.

  As Matt stood, a fuzzy spot in his field of vision made his stomach drop.

  Shit. Not now.

  He looked at the writing on the crib’s box, and one of the words was slightly warped, as if a crease in the cardboard had swallowed up two of the letters. When he shifted his gaze to another word, the same thing happened.

  He rubbed his eye. He knew damn well it wouldn’t help, that he didn’t just have something in his eye, but he did it anyway because hope springs eternal. As he lowered his hand, sure enough—the little crease in his vision was still there. His peripheral vision was narrowing too. First the left side, then the right. There was no turning back now. Before long, the Christmas lights would start—an arcing strand of red and gold flickering lights across the left side of his field of vision.

  “Matt?” Dara touched his arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I…” He rubbed his eyes again. “Fucking migraine’s kicking in.”

  “Oh no. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I wish. I do need to lie down for a bit.”

  “My bedroom is closest. Why don’t you take my bed?”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Don’t ask stupid questions. Of course I don’t mind. Come on.”

  He knew the layout of her house by heart, but he was more than a little grateful that she took his hand and guided him across the hall. She turned off the lights and pulled down the blinds, darkening the room while he slipped off his shoes and lay back on her bed.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Sorry. I probably won’t be much help for the—”

  “Don’t apologize. Do you need anything?”

  “Would a cool cloth be too much trouble?”

  “Like, just a damp towel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course not.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  Alone in the quiet room, he kept his eyes closed and took slow, deep breaths. He wasn’t as prone to the skull-splitting migraines anymore, thank God, but these ocular ones were no picnic either. His eyes ached from trying to focus, and the flickering colors didn’t help the queasiness at all. The Christmas lights behind his eyelids were nauseating, but there was nothing he could do except let them run their course.

  Quiet footsteps told him Dara had returned. She eased herself down onto the bed beside him and pressed a cool, damp cloth into his hand. “Will this work?”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He laid it over his eyes and, for a moment, just enjoyed the cool relief. It wouldn’t make the migraine magically disappear, but it sure did feel nice.

  Keeping her voice soft, she said, “How are you feeling?”

  “Not great, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “We’re in your house, aren’t we?”

  “You’re lucky you have a migraine, or I’d smack you.”

  He chuckled softly.

  “I meant, do you want me to leave the room?”

  No. “It’s okay. I might not be very good company, though.”

  “You’re in pain. I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

  “It doesn’t actually hurt that bad. Just keep the lights down and don’t talk very loud, and I’ll be fine.”

  “It doesn’t hurt? I thought migraines were really painful.”

  “They can be. This kind is more in my eyes. My head feels weird, and it makes me feel kind of sick, but it’s mostly the fact that I can’t see. As long as I don’t try to focus my eyes too much, it’s more annoying than anything.”

  “Hence the dark and the cold cloth?”

  “Yep.” He paused. “If I start slurring or tripping over words, don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.”

  She laughed softly and squeezed his arm. “I’ve seen you drink, sweetie. I probably wouldn’t notice if you started slurring.”

  He lifted his hand, middle finger up.

  She patted his arm gently. “Is there anything you can do?”

  “Not really. Just ride it out.” He gingerly rubbed his temples. “I have some drugs for the ones that get unbearable, but I don’t want to waste them on one like this.”

  “Don’t want to build up a tolerance?”

  “Yep.” He moistened his lips. “I brought this on myself, though. I shouldn’t have gone to my mom’s house earlier.”

  “Ugh. No. Why would you do that to yourself?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  He inhaled slowly. “Have you been out to Goldmount recently?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Can you imagine Aspen Mill turning into that?”

  “I couldn’t imagine Goldmount turning into that.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.” He swallowed, pushing back a wave of nausea that may have had more to do with the conversation than the migraine. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Sooner or later, my folks are going to find out about the baby. That I’m the father. So I decided to feel her out a bit and see how she’d respond. Now I’m scared to death that’s going to be the final straw for my mom.” He pushed out a breath. “And then A
dam’s going to have free rein to build another Goldmount out of Aspen Mill.”

  “I can’t believe she’s going to let him do that. I mean, if the farm is so important…”

  “It’s not the farm,” he said through his teeth. “She couldn’t care less about the farm itself. But she knows it means a lot to me and Beth, so she lords it over us to bend us to her will. Do what Mom says, or watch the farm get bulldozed.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Actually, it kind of is.”

  “No. You’re not forcing my brother to be a money-grubbing idiot, and you’re not the reason my mother is on a manipulative power trip.” He rubbed his eyes through the cloth. “And you’re not forcing me to let her play me like this. I’m a little old to be my mother’s puppet.”

  She stroked his hair. “You’re old enough not to be pushed around by your mother, but you’re also wise enough to know what will happen to Aspen Mill if Adam gets his hands on the property.” She paused. “Why hasn’t Adam bought any of the other properties in town?”

  “The farm is in a prime location, and it has more acreage than any other property in the area.” He paused. “And besides, why buy when your folks are going to hand you a hundred acres of prime real estate?”

  “He’s that sure they’re going to will it to him?”

  “Yep.”

  “What will he do if they don’t?”

  “Probably build somewhere else. He didn’t even have any interest in it until Mom started talking about giving him the land.”

  “And he won’t sell it to you?”

  “Not a chance.” Matt gritted his teeth. “Even if I pay him double or triple the value, he’ll still make more money in the long run once it’s developed. He’s not interested in selling. That fucking greedy—”

  “Matt.” She took his hand. “You’re going to make your migraine worse, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bitch about my fucked-up family.”

  She squeezed gently. “It’s okay. And I’m…God, I’m really sorry this situation is making yours worse.”

  “It’s not your fault. To be honest, baby or not, I wouldn’t trade having you back for peace with my family.”

 

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